Judgment

Bang the gavel. Bang it again. It's Judgment Day for my children. Bang the gavel. Bang it again. I sit on my Throne, a figure on High To pronounce Judgment from my seat in the sky. It's Judgment Day for my children. They tremble before me. I sit on my Throne, a figure on High. Three sons and a daughter down on their knees. Begging for mercy. It's Judgment Day. Bang the gavel. Bang it again. The first defendant arises. My only daughter. She kneels before me, head bowed, hands clasped. Begging for mercy. She recites her litany of offenses against me. Should I cut off her head or merely sever her knee? Now my first son, a strongman, comes to his feet Massive muscles trembling before me He cut me off hard at age thirty-six Not a phone call or test, not even a card I ponder whether I should burn him to death in a tub of pig lard. Let him beg for mercy. My last two sons stand up together. They're good boys, respectful, kind to me and kind to my wife. There's no doubt in my mind that I'll be sparing their life It's Judgment Day for my children. They tremble before Me. I sit on my Throne, a figure on High. I call my daugher to the bench: "What do you have to say in your defense, miserable wench?" She breaks down in tears that melt down her years. Before me stands a mere lass of nine. "I'm so sorry, Dad," she whimpers. "I treated you like dirt," she simpers. "Off with her head," I shout, proclaiming her sentence. I sit on my Throne, a figure on High. ****************** But I am not God. I have no gavel to bang nor Throne to sit on Neither am I any figure on High. My judgment is flawed, as are my decisions All of them models of judicial imprecision Only one thing I know and I know that thing only: God, the True Judge, requires us only To act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly before Him. So, my just action will be to love mercy and walk humbly: "Come back, my daughter. Return, my son. I forgive you completely! ~ Can you forgive me?" June 28, 2018